Bittersweet and Strange
by MayFairy
Summary: Esther/fem!OC Beauty and the Beast AU. When her sister is held captive by a monstrous woman in an enchanted castle, Esther immediately volunteers to take her place. While the enchanted occupants make for good company, the mistress of the castle is impossible to get along with or even look at. But when Esther glimpses something more in her, an unexpected affection begins to grow...
1. Prologue

_Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young queen lived in a shining castle._

_Although she had everything her heart desired, the queen was spoiled, selfish, and unkind._

_But then, one winter's night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered her a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. __Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the queen sneered at the gift, and turned the old woman away. __But she warned her not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when she dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress._

_The queen tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in her heart. And as punishment, she transformed her into a hideous echo of her former self, and placed a powerful spell on the castle, and all who lived there._

_Ashamed of her hideous form, the queen concealed herself inside her castle, with a magic mirror as her only window to the outside world._

_The rose she had been offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom for many years. If she could learn to love another, and earn their love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken._

_If not, she would be doomed to remain cursed for all time._

_As the years passed, she fell into despair, and lost all hope. __For who could ever learn to love someone so hideous and cruel? Who could ever learn to love...a beast?_

* * *

**This will contain characters from both Doctor Who and Torchwood, and is a fun standalone AU for a favourite secondary couple in my main DW fic series (because obscure femslash is what I'm all about). But Gaston is just Gaston because you don't mess with that level of perfection.**

**If you love Esther and/or femslash, you'll probably enjoy this. **


	2. Wrong Turn

"Back again?"

Esther Drummond just shrugged and smiled at the owner of the local bookshop as she came through his door. "I can't help it, I get through them too quickly."

"Well, what will it be this time?"

Her fingers trailed across the spines of the books nearest to her. "Can I take a fiction one this time? The histories might be my favourite, but sometimes you just need a good story."

"What about this one?" The cheerful old man scoured over the shelves briefly before pulling out one with a blue cover and a fanciful title. "Adventures, far off places, magic, a prince...and there's a brilliant love story too."

She considered it before smiling. "Adventures and magic? I guess I could try it. I do like a good love story." She took the book and thanked him several times. "I'll bring it back when I finish it, so probably tomorrow or the day after."

"Alright then, Esther. Have a good day."

"You too!"

She left the shop and came back out onto the street. Her sister was back at the cottage with her children so she had to get back home quickly. As an avid inventor, her sister tended to nearly blow up their cottage if she was left alone too long. And since her husband died, she tended to get lost in her work for hours on end and occasionally forget about her children.

Unfortunately, Esther found her way blocked by none other than Gaston, the village brute. Or at least, that's how she tended to think of him. To most others, he was the village hero and most eligible bachelor. She, however, couldn't be less interested. She knew that he was old-fashioned in the worst way, and was utterly superficial and not by any measure a good person.

"Hello Esther."

It was all she could do not to sigh. "Hello Gaston." His eyes narrowed in on the book in her hands and he immediately snatched it only to eye it sceptically. "Gaston, can I please have my book back?"

"How can you read this? There's no pictures!"

Impatiently, she said, "That's the point. Some of us have imaginations, which are much better."

"Esther, it's time you got your head out of the clouds and started paying attention to more important things," he told her, tossing her book onto the cobbled ground. She scrambled to pick it up and didn't bother to hold back her glare. "Like me. So much of the town is talking about it. It's not right for a woman to read. Soon she starts getting ideas, and thinking…"

"Well, we wouldn't want that," Esther said sarcastically, but he looked pleased, not taking her meaning.

"Exactly. Now, what do you say we take a walk over to the tavern and look at my trophies?" He tried to put his arm around her and lead her in the tavern's direction, but she shrugged him off.

"No, thank you. I have to get home to my family. If you'll excuse me." She turned and walked away, but not before she heard Gaston's friend Lefou's words.

"Well, someone has to look after those little girls, her crackpot sister never will!"

Esther spun on her heel. "Don't you dare talk about my sister like that!" Gaston muttered something in agreement and punched his friend, but she just resumed walking in the opposite direction. There were times when her small provincial life got to her in the worst way and made her desperate for something more.

"Sarah? Are you there?" Esther called when she go home. When she got no reply, she popped around the side of the house to the opening to the basement, where her sister was working away on a ridiculous but marvellous contraption. "Have you eaten today?"

Sarah barely acknowledged her presence. "I will soon."

Esther sighed heavily but knew she would get nothing more from her. Instead, she headed inside to find her nieces Alice and Melanie playing on the floor with their dolls.

"Aunt Esther!" Alice chirped, her eyes lighting up. "Can we have lunch now?"

"Of course," Esther said, "Give me ten minutes to make it."

* * *

A few days later, Sarah had completed her firewood chopping machine and had packed it onto the cart with Esther's help. For all her eccentricities and lack of good mothering skills, Sarah truly was a talented inventor and in her sister's opinion a complete genius.

"And you're sure that you're okay looking after them?" Sarah asked for the tenth time.

It was both endearing and annoying to Esther that she kept asking, because she was the one who looked after them almost all of the time anyway.

"Yes, now go and win that prize, you deserve it!" Esther told her, watching her give their horse Phillipe a nudge with her heels and start riding off towards the forest.

All she could do was hope that winning a prize would break her sister from her daze and make her pay attention to her children again. Esther didn't want to have to hang around forever, no matter how much she loved her nieces.

How could she be content here when there was a whole world of new things to explore?

* * *

Sarah Wilson nee Drummond came to a halt when the path in front of her split into two. One fork looked significantly more welcoming, but the direction of the other one suggested a shortcut.

"Come on, Phillipe, shortcut," she told the horse. He didn't seem too happy about it, but he could hardly argue.

The path was fine at first, but the forest was cold and the wind howled in her ears. That sort of nonsense didn't bother her, however, and so she pressed on. But soon it wasn't just the wind that was howling. If she was right…there were wolves around her.

"Faster, Phillipe!" She urged the horse forward and he began to gallop, just as spooked as she was. But then the wolves began to emerge from the tree line. They leapt at her and Phillipe, and knocked over the cart. Free of it, she was able to urge Phillipe to run faster – but the wolves were just as fast. They snapped at her heels and Phillipe's legs until she was sure that they were both doomed.

But then she looked up and saw a gate. She pushed Phillipe harder and they burst through the it. She leapt off the horse and managed to slam the iron bars back shut before the wolves could follow. With a sigh of relief, she turned around, only to freeze with shock.

A huge, magnificent castle lay in front of her. Towers and a drawbridge and imposing dark stone all over, all the things one read about in books and never believed. Even with the dark night and cold seeping into her skin, and the shadows lurking all around her, the only thing that Sarah could think was how frightening the place looked to be.

But that was when it began to pour down with rain. With no other choice, she ran to the door and knocked, hard. There was no answer. When she tried the door, it swung open and she hesitantly stepped inside.

"Hello?" She called out. "Is anyone there?"

"Hey, look, it's a person! A real person!" A small, excited voice exclaimed from nearby. She whipped around, only to see a table with a lit candlestick and a small clock.

"Who was that? Who just spoke?"

"That would be us," a different voice said. She frowned and grabbed the candlestick in hopes of pushing back the shadows nearby and revealing the speakers. "No, here."

She looked down at the candlestick to see it waving at her. When she peered closer, she saw that it actually had a tiny face, with glinting eyes that were just a little too vibrant. She nearby dropped it in surprise.

"Oh my god," she said, "How do you work?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," the candlestick replied, in a voice that sounded almost flirtatious.

"Ignore Jack, he has no boundaries," the clock said, sounding exasperated, and sure enough, upon closer inspection, it also had a face. "Please, stay. We can look after you, make sure you don't catch your death out there."

"Thank you." It was all she could muster, because as an inventor, the talking objects were fascinating, not only in how they worked but in the fact that they seemed to have personalities as well as rational thought.

"Follow us." The clock hopped off the table and bounded off down the hallway, and so still holding the candlestick that may or may not have been called Jack, she followed. They eventually came to a small, cosy room with a large, inviting chair in front of the fireplace.

"Hang on, Doc, are you sure that she should be in here?" The candlestick asked the clock, who just nodded.

"This is the best room for her to warm up in." The clock gestured with little wooden arms for her to sit in the chair. "Go on, sit down, relax, we'll look after you."

That was when a cart with a teapot and a teacup flew in. "Heard we had a visitor!" The teapot exclaimed, and Sarah realised that she should probably stop being surprised. "What's your name, then?"

"Sarah," the woman replied, and the teapot laughed – which was odd in itself.

"What a coincidence! I'm Sarah Jane, but everyone calls me Miss Smith, and this is my son Luke." The teacup next to her smiled as his mother filled him with tea. Sarah took Luke carefully by the handle and drank the tea slowly. It warmed her insides and she felt immediately much better than before.

"I'm not sure that she should be sitting in the chair," Jack the candlestick said somewhat nervously.

But it was too late by that point. A few seconds after he spoke, the door flew open with a bang and Sarah jumped up from the chair as she hastily put Luke back on the cart next to Miss Smith.

"What are you doing in here?" A low, angry voice demanded. "How dare you come into my home and sit in my chair?! Harkness, was this your idea?" The candlestick shook his head.

"No, not exactly."

"Who are you? I'm sorry for intruding, but I got lost in the woods, and they invited me in…" Sarah said helplessly.

"Your mistake for listening. They shouldn't have," the voice answered.

That was when a figure stepped from the shadows of the doorway, and Sarah had to gasp.

The woman standing there was the most terrifying thing she had ever seen. Her hair was black and knotted, eyes unfathomably dark and full of rage. But she looked like the personification of death itself. Her limbs were so thin that it was a wonder she was able to stand, and her skin so white that she bore no small resemblance to a skeleton. Her face was gaunt with emphasised cheekbones and eye sockets, and all of it should have made her look fragile and weak. This was not the case.

Ill, and perhaps near death, yes. But weak? No. It was the opposite - somehow this woman exuded an aura of deadly power.

Her lips were set in a firm line. "You want to stay here? Very well, you may reside in my dungeons…until you die." Her hand reached out to grab Sarah's arm, her sharp nails digging into her skin. Sarah was dragged from the room and into the base of a tower. Up the stairs they went, up and up until she was thrown unceremoniously into a bare cell.

"Wait, you can't just leave me in here, I have children, they're waiting for me," Sarah protested, but the woman had already turned away.

"You should have thought of that before."

* * *

**So the Beast figure in this is a (somewhat minor) OC from my _Halfway Out of the Dark _series of Doctor Who fics. In that, she's the doctor for the new Torchwood team (and in that verse, Esther survived Miracle Day). And anyone who has read the series could concur that the Beast role fits her temperament perfectly.**

**Though you'll have noticed I've not gone for the traditional Beast route. I wanted to explore a different way the curse might have affected the unkind royal it was cast around. (Plus then you don't get the mild bestiality connotations, lol.) **


	3. Foul and Fair

Esther had just gotten the girls settled in their bedroom and was about to start reading their favourite book to them again when there was a knock at the door. Unfortunately, when she came downstairs and answered it, Gaston was the one standing on the doorstep.

"Gaston, this really isn't a good time," she tried to say, but he barged in anyway.

"It's always a good time for me. Now, Esther, there's not a girl in town who wouldn't want to be in your shoes. This is the day-" He caught sight of himself in the mirror and stopped to pick something out of his teeth and grin at his reflection, "Ah. This is the day your dreams come true."

Esther could do nothing but stare at him sceptically. "And which dreams would those be?"

"The ones involving a picture like this…" He sat down at the table and put his muddy feet up on it. "A rustic hunting lodge, my latest kill roasting over the fire, and my little wife, massaging my feet while the little ones play on the floor with the dogs. We'll have six or seven."

"Six or seven dogs?"

"No, Esther! Strapping boys like me."

"Right," she said, trying not to look horrified at the thought.

"And do you know who that little wife will be?"

She tried to move away from him. "Who?"

"You, Esther!" He cornered her against the wall. His entire physical presence was so overwhelming that she had to rationally beat down a shoot of fear that sprung up in her heart and tell herself that he wasn't likely to try anything _too _untoward.

"What?" She ducked under his arms and made for the door, either planning to use it for herself or for him. But again, he pushed forward until she was once again trapped between him and a solid vertical surface.

"Say that you'll marry me," he asked, still without losing a breath of his unshakeable confidence. He leaned in with obvious intent to kiss her but her hand scrabbling behind her had found the door handle.

"No!" She said forcefully before letting the door open and Gaston tumble out past her.

As she shut the door again, she could hear him cursing to Lefou as they walked back towards the village. With several deep breaths, Esther let out a sigh of utter relief. _That was a close one_.

* * *

Esther was weeding the garden around the cottage the next day when Phillipe came running into view. The horse looked terrified and it took nearly a minute just to calm him down.

"What is it? Where's Sarah? Why isn't she with you?"

Her mind raced and she realised that there was a strong chance that something terrible had happened. She ran back into the house.

"Alice, Melanie, I have to leave you guys here on your own for a while, okay? I need you to go to Vera in town and tell her that it's an emergency and that I need her to look after you until I get back, okay?"

"Why is it an emergency?" Melanie asked.

Alice nodded. "Where's Mother?"

"Don't worry about it for now, just do as I say." Esther kissed them both on the foreheads before jumping on Phillipe and riding off into the forest.

After several hours of searching, it seemed as though there was no hope, and that they were simply very lost. But then Phillipe reared and took off on his own, and when he finally came to a stop, it was outside a tall pair of black iron gates.

Behind the gates was a castle impossible in nature and size but real in presence and the fear it planted in her heart.

"What…?" Esther muttered, confused, as she stepped inside and made her way to the front door. It opened of its own accord. "Sarah?" She went inside and found herself in a grand entrance hall, with a high ceiling and a grand staircase. It was dimly lit but obviously well cared for. "Sarah?"

"Another one! This one's even better than the first one!"

"Shhh!"

"No!"

"Shut up!"

"Ow!"

Esther spun around to see – of all the absurd things in the world – a small clock whacking a candlestick with one of its small wooden arms.

"Are you alive? Or am I dreaming?" Esther asked them, and the two household objects froze. After a few moments, she frowned at them. "I heard you talking - I think – and I definitely saw you fighting, so don't play dead with _me_."

The candlestick moved from its stationary position and winked at her, making her jump. It, along with the clock, had a tiny face! How wonderfully ridiculous.

"Are you real? Or am I going crazy?" She asked it.

"You're not crazy, don't worry," the clock chimed in comfortingly, "We are most _definitely_ real. Just as _he_ is most definitely the only person who could still be a pervert despite being a candlestick."

"Hey!" The candlestick protested.

The clock just rolled its eyes. "You know I mean that with the utmost fondness, Jack."

"You have names too?"

"Of course we do! I'm the Doctor, and this is Jack," the clock said proudly.

"Have you seen my sister? She's blonde, like me, and she's called Sarah."

The candlestick frowned. "Yeah, but we can't tell you where she is. The mistress would probably throw us both in the fireplace."

"We can so tell you," the clock argued, and then smiled at her. "She's in the tower." A wooden arm pointed out a direction for her. "That way. But as a warning, if you run into the mistress of the castle, my advice would be to run. Rather fast. And rather…away from here."

"Okay, thank you." Esther smiled gratefully at them, not entirely convinced that she was still sane and talking to household objects, but deciding to worry about it later. Right now, she had to find her sister, apparently before this 'mistress of the castle' turned up. If the clock had advised her to run, it could mean that she was dangerous.

She ran up the stairs of the tower, but it was so high that she almost gave up when her legs screamed at her to stop. But then she reached the end of the steps and saw a familiar hand and arm poking out from the bars of a nearby cell.

"Sarah!" Within a second she was at the door, grabbing her sister's hand.

"Esther, no," Sarah said desperately, eyes wide with a horror and sheer terror that confused and worried Esther, "You shouldn't have come, she'll imprison you as well, go back to the girls!"

"No, I have to get you out of here!"

"_What are you doing here_?!" A thunderous voice made Esther jump and turn around, only to see a figure in the shadows.

"Oh no," Sarah breathed hopelessly.

Esther ignored her and instead lifted her chin. "I'm here to rescue my sister."

The figure laughed, a cruel chilling laugh that shook Esther to the bone and sent a chill down her spine. "And how is that working out for you? Do you really think that you will be permitted to leave?"

"Are you the mistress of the castle?"

"Yes. I don't need to ask how you came to be here, no doubt the Doctor and his perverted candlestick of a friend told you where to go. Morons, the pair of them. As if you would ever get in and out without my knowledge."

"Please! There must be something you want," Esther insisted, "Sarah has children, two girls at home who need their mother!"

"How touching." The woman's voice made it clear that she thought it anything but.

"What about an exchange? I'll take her place. Let her go back home and I'll be your prisoner instead."

It was a long shot to say the least, and probably not likely to work because she could just have both of them for prisoners, but Esther had to _try,_ and could see no other alternatives to offer up.

For some reason, it made the woman in the shadows freeze. "You would do that?"

"Yes, of course I would!"

"Esther, no!"

"Please, let her go home and I'll stay," Esther pleaded.

"Forever?"

"…yes."

"Alright then. We have a deal." The woman fell silent while Esther threw back the bolt on the door of the cell and let her sister stumble out. "You, crying one, you can go. And by can, I mean will. Rex, Owen, escort her out." There was a snap of her fingers and two nearby suits of armour took Sarah by each arm and began to march her down the stairs.

Esther remained kneeling on the floor, simultaneously too relieved and too filled with dread to speak immediately. Eventually, all she said was, "Thank you." The woman didn't respond so she tried something else. "Can you step into the light? I can't see you."

She thought she heard a sneer. "Why would you want to?" The figure turned around. "Follow me."

"But…the cell is _here_."

"You're going to be here for the rest of your life, do you want to have a room or a cell?"

"…a room," Esther said quietly, following her, bewildered.

"Exactly."

They descended the stairs in silence and left the tower. With a little more light, Esther could see her captor slightly better. She wore a black velvet gown that flowed down to the floor, with long sleeves. She looked far too thin to be healthy. Dark hair cut short didn't quite brush the tops of her shoulders.

After reaching the entrance hall, they climbed the grand staircase wordlessly. The corridor they ended up in was quite brightly lit, enough so that Esther could see that the woman's black locks of hair were knotted and looked as they had been cut with little care for appearance. And her skin…the little she could see of it was bone white. Was she very ill?

Eventually, they came to a stop. That was when the woman turned around, and Esther gasped. It went beyond illness – she didn't look as though she should be alive. The tiny, thin arms and the visible sternum and upper ribcage were bad enough, but they were nothing in comparison to the face. The face of pale skin pulled over high cheekbones and dark shadows around the eyes. The eyes that were awful because they were both the most alive thing about her as well as the most utterly terrifying.

Esther had seen dead people who looked healthier.

"Yes, yes, I'm hideous and more or less inhuman to look at, oddly enough I am aware and you might as well get used to it," the woman snapped, "This is your room, so get in and stop wasting my time." She shoved Esther through the door with strength that didn't seem possible for someone of her stature. "I will be having dinner at seven, you may join me if you wish, assuming you want to eat."

The door slammed shut, and Esther listened as the sound of her clicking shoes disappeared down the corridor. That was when she sat down on the bed and very quietly began to cry. All in one day, she had lost her family and freedom. And this horror of a woman, with a face like death and nightmares, would seem to be her only human companionship.

"You know, it's not so bad here, once you get used to it," the nearby wardrobe said comfortingly, making her jump nearly a foot in the air.

"I should have known that you could talk too," Esther said, forcing herself to not gape. "Do you have a name as well?"

"I'm Gwen, and that's Rhys, my husband," the wardrobe told her cheerfully enough, her door opening to indicate the bedside table, who opened one of his drawers in greeting.

"Nice to make your acquaintance," Esther said, her voice shaking a little. "Is all the furniture here like you?"

"If you mean bloody enchanted, then yes," Rhys put in rather irritably. The blonde laughed, but quickly sobered when she remembered that she was a prisoner in the castle for the rest of her life.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Esther did not come to dinner. The mistress's fingernails tapped on the table in a way that sounded impatient.

"Did you _ask_ her to come, or _tell_ her to come?" Jack inquired curiously. She frowned.

"I asked her. I knew that she wouldn't."

"Why did you do it? Take the offer of the exchange? You could have kept them both."

"Her sister was irritating," she said, voice full of scorn and distaste, "She cried too much and it carried all the way down from the tower. But this…Esther, she's different. Brave, compassionate."

"Easy on the eyes too," Jack added, "Though I doubt you noticed."

"Of course I noticed, how could I miss it?" She asked wryly, her mouth twisting in an odd smile. "She's beautiful. Far too beautiful."

"Oh…do you think she could break the curse?" Jack was only surprised for a moment. After all, he was hardly discriminative in his own tastes. But it seemed to be the wrong thing to say, because her face darkened.

"Unlikely. I said that she was attractive, not that I was in love with her. Besides, there is the problem of…preferences in companionship. It is not likely that hers lie where mine do."

"I could ask?"

"No!" The woman growled. "You will do nothing of the sort. Leave both of us be."

Jack sighed. "I'm just trying to help, Marion."

Marion looked at him with those eyes that terrified so many. Not him. He didn't scare easily, and in them he could see her humanity, the part of her that was still alive underneath her cursed form and all the anger.

"I know." For one impossible moment he thought that she was going to thank him, but instead she just rolled her eyes. "But your help is not needed." She got up from the table.

"You've barely touched your food."

"I'm not hungry."

* * *

Bored and famished, Esther ducked her head out of her room. Her plain brown shoes padded down the carpeted corridor until she came to a halt when she realised she had no idea how to navigate the castle and that she'd only get lost. Also, was she allowed to leave her room? The frightening woman hadn't said.

"Hello again!"

She started and looked down to see the clock at her feet. "Hello. Do you know the way to the kitchen?"

"Course I do. Follow me," he replied, and hopped off down the corridor while she followed. "So, what's your name, then?"

"I'm Esther. How about you?"

"They call me the Doctor."

"A clock called 'the Doctor'? That doesn't make any kind of sense," Esther said, wanting to frown but finding herself grinning instead.

The clock laughed a little. "It's a long story."

They eventually got to the kitchen, where they were told to go on to the main dining room. They did, and found a meal enough for five people on the table, though with only one place set.

"We figured you would get hungry," a kind teapot who introduced herself as Miss Smith said from her cart next to the table, "Help yourself."

"Thank you," Esther said, awed by their kindness, "I _am_ very hungry." She sat down and began taking a bit of all the dishes, piling it all onto her plate. "So, if this place is enchanted, has it always been like this? Is she a witch?"

"No!" Several of them replied rather forcefully.

Esther lifted her eyebrows. "Okay, not a witch. What's…wrong…with her?"

"That's absolutely none of your business."

Everyone in the room – Esther and the household objects alike – jumped as the mistress of the castle stepped inside and sat herself at the opposite end of the dining table without another word. When everyone continued to stare, she just turned her attention to Jack the candlestick, who was in the middle of the table trying to look like a truly inanimate object.

"What, I don't get some of the food as well?" A plate was hurriedly placed in front of her and she smirked before serving herself.

"Thought you weren't hungry," Jack said to her.

"My appetite returned unexpectedly," she told him, shrugging, "I figured that you lot, soft-hearted as you are, would have prepared something for her. I saw no reason not to join you."

"What's your name?" Esther asked her suddenly, only able to look at her for a second before bringing her eyes back to her food.

"Yours is Esther, yes?" When the blonde nodded, the woman replied, "Mine is Marion."

"And…you aren't angry that I left my room?"

Marion shrugged again and spread her hands in a gesture of disinterest. "You are free to move about the castle as you wish, so long as you stay away from the West Wing."

Esther blinked. "Why, what's in the West Wing?"

"Again, nothing that is any of your business. But if you go there, I will be very angry indeed, which believe me is something you don't wish to see."

"I thought I already had."

"No, you really haven't," Marion told her with a dark smile that sent a shiver down Esther's back, "You're not a prisoner here, exactly. Think of yourself more as a guest who is not permitted to leave. If that at all makes sense. Euphemistic and a technicality, but more pleasant, surely."

"This castle is enchanted, isn't it?"

Marion paused, and then went back to sipping her drink. "Yes, it is. No need to ask what gave it away." She shot a look at the animated teapot, clock and candlestick, and for a moment, Esther thought she saw a tiny twinkle in her eyes and almost wanted to laugh, but didn't.

"So, you're not a witch, but you do control the enchantment, don't you?" It was, after all, the only explanation as far as Esther could see, given that the castle was _hers_ and the living objects her servants.

The dark haired woman frowned. "No. No one controls it, it simply exists and there is nothing anyone can do about it."

Jack the candlestick started coughing a word that sounded like 'rose' but Marion's arm swept him off the table and onto the floor within a second, effectively shutting him up.


End file.
